


There's Nothing Normal About This

by Bluewolf458



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-09 12:40:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1983378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluewolf458/pseuds/Bluewolf458
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a body in a burned-out car...</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's Nothing Normal About This

**Author's Note:**

> There are references to incest in the story
> 
> Written for Sentinel Thursday, prompt 'normal'

There's Nothing Normal About This

by Bluewolf

It began as a perfectly normal morning.

The sky was overcast - quite normal for the Pacific north-west, and for Cascade in particular, though the sun _was_ threatening to come out of hiding at some point in the next hour or so.

The sound - somewhat muffled by the closed windows - of traffic driving down Prospect was perfectly normal; even the faint, distant sound of a siren, as an emergency vehicle rushed off somewhere, was relatively normal.

The morning routine was normal; it was, Blair reflected, a standing joke - but a myth, nevertheless - that he was reluctant to waken in the morning. He was one of those fortunate people for whom four hours of sleep a night was perfectly adequate, though he was not averse to having an extra hour in bed if the opportunity presented itself. So he had already showered (while Jim went out and collected the two morning papers they favored) and now he was preparing breakfast while Jim performed his morning ablutions. He had the timing down absolutely pat; Jim's normal routine was practically set in stone. Blair glanced at the clock; Jim would be leaving the bathroom in three... two... one...

Dead on time, the bathroom door opened and Jim walked out.

They ate breakfast in their normal, nearly silent camaraderie; sometimes Jim thought that eating breakfast was the key that wound Blair up for the day, because he was normally fairly quiet first thing in the morning. Active enough, but quiet.

Because Blair had prepared breakfast, Jim washed the dishes.

They had roughly half an hour before they needed to leave for work; as was normal, each took his preferred paper and they settled down to read the morning news.

And as was almost normal, a few minutes later the phone rang.

Jim stretched out a long arm and picked it up. "Ellison," he said. He listened for a minute, while Blair watched his face growing more and more serious. Then - "On our way."

He replaced the phone, and glanced at Blair, who, knowing what was coming, had already closed, folded and put down his paper. As he folded his own paper, he said quietly, "That was Simon."

Blair nodded, unsurprised. "What's the problem?" He stood and headed for the door.

"Burned-out car in Green Park," Jim said. "It had burned itself out before anyone saw it - the fire department wasn't called out to it."

Already reaching for his jacket, Blair paused to look at Jim. "So why call out Major Crime? A vandalized car is Patrol's responsibility, isn't it?"

"Two reasons," Jim said. "First, the car has been identified as probably belonging to Andrew Vanhaight - "

"The Deputy Mayor?"

"Apparently he reported one of his cars stolen fairly late last night - he has a security team checking the place between midnight and one am - and although the plates on this one are missing, it's the same model; and how many people in Cascade have a top-of-the-range Lamborghini?" Jim tossed Blair's jacket to him and took his own, and went on as he opened the door, "Second, and more importantly - there was a body in it, and not in the driver's seat." He headed for the stairs as Blair pulled the door closed, knowing that would be quicker than waiting for the elevator which, having originally been intended for freight, was normally fairly slow. "Badly burned," he went on as Blair joined him, "but one of the Patrol officers who was first on the scene is some sort of cousin of Dan Wolf's and has an interest in forensics. While his partner called it in, he looked closely enough at the body to realize there was a bullet hole in the head."

"At least he'd have been dead before he burned," Blair said as they reached the truck.

"Which leaves us with two immediate possibilities." Jim fastened his seat belt and started the truck. He glanced at Blair, not really wondering if his partner had reached the same conclusion he had, then moved smoothly into the line of traffic.

Blair knew that Jim would have his own suspicions, but answered anyway. "Either Vanhaight killed someone - or was responsible for the death - and reported his car stolen to give himself an alibi, or someone stole the car to make it look as if Vanhaight was responsible for the death."

"That's how I see it." Jim was silent for a moment before saying, a little unhappily, "You never used to be that cynical, Chief."

"You'd be surprised, Jim." He thought for a moment. "I'm inclined to the second possibility. I know Vanhaight's richer than Croesus, but even so, to torch a car that cost him a small fortune to hide that he killed someone? That's not what the ultra-rich of the world do. They're mostly the most parsimonious SOBs under the sun - spend plenty to give themselves a luxurious life thinking it makes the common herd envy them, but otherwise keep a tight hand on the purse strings. He could employ a hitman for a fraction of what he paid for that car. Or give one of his staff a backhander of a couple of thousand to dispose of the body for him."

"It'll be interesting to see how he reacts to the information that it's... well... "

"An ex-car?"

Jim turned into Green Park and a minute later pulled up beside Simon's car. Blair's attention was already on the burned-out wreck of what, the day before, had been a very nice vehicle - though, he admitted in the privacy of his own thoughts, not one he would really have wanted to own... even if he had been possessed of enough money to consider buying it. 'Conspicuous waste of the world's resources' - he could hear the echo of Naomi's accusing voice.

Forensics was already on the scene, and even Dan Wolf was there, talking to a Patrol officer who was probably his cousin. Before Jim and Blair could do more than reach Simon's side, another car pulled in - this one a Rolls Royce, Blair noted, though probably not quite as expensive as the Lamborghini. Chauffeur-driven; the uniformed driver got out and opened the rear door. Of course - Andrew Vanhaight. He straightened, looked around, said something to his driver and walked briskly over to Simon.

"Captain Banks. I trust you will be putting your top men on this?"

"Yes, sir - Detective Ellison will head the investigation." He indicated Jim, who took a step forward.

Vanhaight nodded once in dismissive acknowledgement, and turned back to Simon, obviously regarding Jim as unworthy of his attention. Blair murmured, sentinel-soft, "Simon's top detective assigned to the case, and not even worth a 'good morning'."

Jim's lips were set in a straight line, and Blair could read his anger. Then Jim took a deep breath, and murmured, just loud enough for Blair to hear, "Typical of the breed. Or no, that's not entirely fair. It's the usual 'split into two classes' - there are the ones who understand common politeness, and the ones like him, thinking that because he has money and position, anyone who doesn't is beneath his notice. He'd change his tune fast enough if he knew who my father is. I doubt he thinks much of Simon, but at least Simon has his rank to give him a degree of importance."

"Though it probably galls him that a black man is holding that rank," Blair said softly.

"Yeah," Jim muttered. "Come on, let's get over there and see what Forensics has found... if anything."

The body was still sitting in the car; bent forward, head on the dashboard. Jim nodded as he noted the bullet hole in the back of the head; half hidden by the soot of the fire, he gave Dan's cousin top marks for noticing it.

Studying the whole, he decided that whatever accelerant had been used when the car was torched had been poured very liberally over the body. It would not be easy to identify whoever it was. The major question was... why. Why had this person - it was not immediately obvious whether it was a man or a woman - been killed? Why had this car been stolen and used as... yes, as a crematorium?

There was nothing normal about this crime.

Jim straightened, aware that Dan was approaching. As he did, he noticed something glinting in the grass just beyond the area scorched by the flames. Blair followed as he crossed to it, pulling on a glove, bent and picked up a ring - a beautiful opal set in gold. Blair gave a soundless whistle. "That cost someone a good few pennies," he muttered. Jim dropped in into an evidence bag, then they turned to meet Dan.

"I don't suppose you've got anything yet," Jim said.

"Well, other than killed by a bullet to the head, not really."

"Your cousin did well," Jim went on.

Dan nodded. "He's studying forensics in evening classes," he said, "and he's always been good at noticing things. I've told him he can sit in when I do the actual autopsy - it'll be good experience for him. Have you finished checking the scene?"

"Yeah - we're not going to get much from the car, and identifying the body... " He shook his head. "Unless we're very, very lucky... "

"Mmm. Can't even guarantee he's been reported as a missing person."

"Anyway - I'll get him bagged up and... I suppose under the circumstances I'll have to push him to the front of the line. Vanhaight will want answers ASAP."

"ASAP? He'll want answers faster than that!" Blair muttered. "Like the day before yesterday."

"Why do I get the feeling you don't much like our deputy mayor?" Dan asked softly.

"Probably because I don't. Look at him - at least two expensive cars - probably more - the sort of car that makes you ask 'how many gallons to the mile?' He's totally wasting the world's resources! Add to that, he has the courtesy of a mink."

Dan's lips twitched slightly, then turned to supervise as the corpse was put into a body bag.

"Wait!" Jim said sharply. Dan looked at him. "The victim is wearing a ring... "

Sure enough, on the middle finger of the right hand was a signet ring. Dan eased it off carefully and handed it to Jim. It wasn't too badly damaged by the smoke - the way the body was lying, the hands were at least partially protected from the worst of the fire. Jim peered at it. "M... V," he said.

"What's that?" Unnoticed even by Jim, whose attention was totally on the body, Simon and Vanhaight had joined them; it was Vanhaight who had spoken.

Jim glanced at Simon and directed his reply at his Captain, making it a report.

"The victim was wearing a ring with the initials M V engraved on it, sir."

"M V?" Again the speaker was Vanhaight.

Jim looked at him. "Does that mean something, Deputy Mayor?"

"It could be... it could be Martin Vanhaight... my nephew."

Jim looked at him for a moment; the man looked genuinely shaken. Jim reached in to his pocket and pulled out the small bag with the ring. "Does this mean anything?"

"That... that's my wife's engagement ring. Where... ?"

"Beside the car," Jim said, with more sympathy than he had expected to be able to show.

Vanhaight stared at him, the color visibly draining out of his face. "That... wouldn't that mean... " He seemed to have forgotten that Jim, as a 'mere' rank and file detective, was beneath his notice.

"Yes," Jim said, "I'm afraid it does. We're going to have to question your wife. I'm sorry."

Almost absently, Vanhaight murmured, "She never liked Martin, but that doesn't mean she wanted to see him dead... "

"Maybe not, but at the moment this ring makes her our main suspect," Jim said.

***

Mrs Vanhaight was at home when the police arrived - the Deputy Mayor had decided not to accompany them, heading instead to his office.

"Police?" she asked. "Is this about the car that was stolen last night? Because as far as I know, Andrew went to his office this morning."

"Well, yes and no," Blair said. "The car has been found, but it's badly damaged. Mrs Vanhaight, what can you tell us about your husband's nephew Martin?"

She gave an unladylike snort. "Nephew? Well, technically yes, but in fact he was actually Andrew's son. Andrew had an affair with his older sister when he was in his mid teens. They hushed it up when Sylvia turned up pregnant - she claimed she'd been raped, but as Martin - " she practically spat the name - "got older, he began to look more and more like Andrew. Sylvia passed it off as a family likeness, but she admitted the truth to me one night about a year ago after she'd had too much to drink.

"But I had already wondered - Andrew favored Martin too much, seemed to care for him more than he cared for my children. His will gives Martin the lion's share of his money; I get some, but my children? Almost nothing. As if he felt that his first-born, even though he was a bastard fathered through incest, was more important than his legitimate children."

"Was that why you killed him?"

"Yes! My children deserve - " She broke off, suddenly realizing what she had said. "How did you know?"

"We found your ring beside the car.

"The car wasn't stolen, was it. Well, technically it was, but you were the one who took it, weren't you? You somehow persuaded Martin to accompany you - did you pretend you'd fallen in love with him? Was that how you did it?" Blair's voice was very sympathetic.

She looked at him, and the expression on her face reminded him very much of Naomi. It was the look of a wild animal defending its young; just how Naomi might have looked - had looked - years previously when he was very young and she'd thought someone was out to harm him. He remembered one of her partners who had tried to molest him... The expression on Naomi's face that day was exactly the same as the one on Marie Vanhaight's as she spoke of Martin Vanhaight. Naomi had stopped short of murder; she had battered... what was his name again? Oh yes, Tommy. She had battered Tommy with a frying pan, knocked him unconscious, then gathered their possessions and walked out as Tommy began to push himself into a sitting position.

"You were just looking out for your own children, weren't you?" he asked gently.

"Andrew would have left them practically destitute," she said brokenly. "It wasn't even as if Martin needed Andrew's money - Sylvia inherited half of her father's fortune when he died, and she isn't someone who would fritter away her assets. But for some reason Andrew seemed to love Martin more than Ann or Frank," she repeated. "Okay, he was Andrew's son, but Ann and Frank are his children too!"

"Did Sylvia never marry?" It was unlikely that she had, because Martin had used the name Vanhaight.

"No. From what she said to me, what she and Andrew had had was a real love affair. They'd known they had to be discreet about it, but it wasn't until she fell pregnant that they really realized the problems. I'd guess I was... well, a cover for him; I doubt now that he ever loved me. It was easier for Sylvia to stay single, especially with her claim of rape leaving her pregnant." She hesitated for a moment before going on. "I think that they still sleep together, at least occasionally."

"I'm sorry," Blair said quietly. "I think you were badly cheated by the Vanhaights, though I think Andrew does love you - at least as much as he's able. He certainly seemed totally shocked at the possibility of your involvement, and I'll swear it was concern for you, not annoyance that it was you who had killed Martin; but since you _have_ admitted to killing Martin... Marie Vanhaight, you are under arrest... "

***

After she was taken to the PD and booked, Jim and Blair went to the Deputy Mayor's office.

Vanhaight actually stood as they entered. "Detectives," he said, his voice unsteady. But at least he sounded as if he no longer considered himself three steps above them, socially. Something in him had broken. "You have something to tell me?"

"I'm sorry," Blair said quietly. "Your wife has admitted to killing Martin."

"Did... did she say why?"

"You could say jealousy," Blair told him. "She felt you cared more for him than for her children... and apparently his mother had admitted to her who Martin's father actually was."

"Oh, God... "

"It was the truth?" Blair asked.

"Yes. We... Sylvia and I... We knew it was wrong, but we really loved each other... and we were too young to think about what might happen. When she realized she was pregnant... "

"Marie thought - thinks - that you just married her to cover your affair with Sylvia."

"No. Oh, I knew I'd have to marry, and I'd resigned myself to what I'd thought would be a marriage of convenience, but I do love her. It's just... "

"You love Sylvia that little bit more, and of course Martin was the son of the woman you loved unreservedly."

"Yes... Oh, God, how am I going to tell Sylvia... "

"The police will do that," Jim said. "You have our word that we'll keep our knowledge of your nephew's parenthood to ourselves. Our report will simply say that your wife admitted to being annoyed that your will left more to your nephew than your children, especially since she seemed to think that he didn't need the money - that his mother was rich and as her only child... "

"No, she's not rich," Vanhaight said. "She inherited half of what our parents left, yes, but they didn't really leave that much. She's lived frugally and I've helped when she let me, but she's not rich. I am, but what I have, I earned through my own efforts, through hard work, good investments...

"But as he got older, Martin was going to need money, more than Ann or Frank ever would. Marie never knew, but Martin was beginning to show the first signs of multiple sclerosis. That was why I made him the main beneficiary in my will. I'd have done that even if he had been only my nephew."

"Maybe that was your biggest mistake - not telling Marie why," Blair said.

Vanhaight looked at him... and slowly nodded. "Yes," he said. "I really should have told her why."


End file.
